The Third Duel
by Macbeth 7768
Summary: Gift-fic for DarkEclipse45. Faced with the third and final duel with Ike, Zelgius remembers their past duels.


The Third Duel

The exact nature of a sororal relationship is often unclear to those not in said relationship, significantly muddied by differences that are only too human. Some sisters fight, some sisters are best of friends. Often-times, the two aforementioned relationships intertwine: They may fight, but deep down, they do love each other. Fighting is just their strange way of resolving their inevitable differences. These differences can range from simply different tastes to being almost polar opposites in personality. Through these, however, sisters will often remain close.

That two sisters, only different in color, name, and the man to whom they are beholden, should be so mortally opposed as to clash two times in mortal combat, was therefore truly ironic. The names of the sisters and the men to whom they were beholden? Alondite, beholden to Zelgius, and Ragnell, beholden to Ike.

The second and last time these swords were crossed against each other was in fact the third time Zelgius and Ike had dueled. In the Tower of Ashera, isolated from their allies by a mystical blue screen, they stood about twenty paces apart, facing each other, poised to begin the fatal duel. Only one of them would be reunited with his comrades when the screen fell at the end of the duel.

Zelgius eyed his opponent evenly, waiting for Ike's attack. The past two times Ike had faced him, he had consistently been the initial aggressor. Zelgius was left to counter and base his moves off Ike's. This was true the first time they had dueled, and the second. Zelgius dared not close his eyes to remember, but in a brief moment, the moment of their first duel flooded back into his mind.

* * *

><p>Outside Castle Delbray at Crimea, The Black Knight watched the castle as those inside celebrated. His steady breathing echoed inside his helmet and whistled every so slightly through the thin T-slit of his helmet. He loved and hated the helmet; loved it for its perfect compromise between protection and field of vision, hated it for the oppressive darkness inside it. Nevertheless, by some miracle of design (or was it some boon from his accursed lineage?), he could still see clearly enough to survive battle. Admittedly, the blessed armor helped his survival immensely.<p>

He watched as a lone figure rounded the branch of forest that stood between him and the castle. He shifted his stance ever so subtly, ready for a sudden attack with very little actual change in his stance. He watched warily as the figure stepped forward into clearer vision, and he saw the face he knew he would see: the son of Gawain, the leader of the Crimean liberation, Daein's newest, greatest foe. Ike.

"Why did you come" Ike called as he continued to advance. "Or more importantly, why did you wait until the battle had ended?"

Though The Black Knight had to remain impassive in his persona, he could not help but smile at Ike's foolishness. Controlling and projecting his voice for the maximum effect, he responded, "I know your ways. I assumed you would not hesitate to attack. Perhaps, though, you've learned to judge when such a foolhardy move is…appropriate."

"I'm a mercenary," Ike shot back. "Nothing stands in the way of a mercenary's contract to his employer."

The Black Knight could not resist the opportunity for dark humor. "Then, shall we call off this duel? Your death will put you in a severe breach of contract, after all."

He fought back a chuckle as Ike retorted, "Then I'll just have to win!"

Heedless. As expected. Now was the time for The Black Knight to display exactly _why_ Ike could not win. He watched carefully as Ike prepared to strike. He would have to execute this perfectly for maximum effect. Ike made an experimental swipe. The Black Knight did not move. Ike slashed, closer this time, and failed to elicit movement yet again. Finally, Ike's impatience won out as predicted, and he made for a slash across, one that would have cut straight through The Black Knight's neck…had it reached it.

Instead, he caught it with an ebon-gloved hand, and grasped it briefly but firmly as he directed it away from his head, then let go of the blade to let Ike fall to the ground on the other side. He exhaled in relief, finally sure that his armor was indeed blessed, and therefore invincible to Ike's attack. He remained impassive as Ike spun quickly for a second strike, and barely kept from flinching as the blade ricocheted off his dark breastplate.

He heard Ike murmur something in disbelief, and smiled. "Not bad," he said. "Your form has improved. But form will not help you when your weapon is so poorly wrought. My armor is blessed by the Goddess Ashera herself. It can only be scratched by two blades." Admittedly, that was not entirely true: the powerful claws and black breath of King Dheginsea could make his armor into a shredded, partly-melted mass of black metal, but Ike could have neither, and no need to inform him.

The Black Knight continued his boast, "One blade is this one I now hold, Alondite. The other is its twin sister blade, Ragnell. You do have it with you, don't you?" He intended that the question be rhetorical, but as he watched Ike, he gradually realized that the question was worth asking, and his disbelief mounted. "You didn't..." How could the boy be so stupid as to abandon Ragnell, and still have led the army this far without setback?

"You mean," Ike stuttered, "that sword you gave to my father like a crutch, a crutch he refused? That was Ragnell?"

"I win this time. Next time we meet, bring Ragnell. I grow annoyed with victory by virtue of default." The Black Knight then reached to a pouch near his waist, and pulled out a pinch of crystal powder. He scattered a small pinch at his feet, and channeled into them. He felt power seep from him as the world faded around him, and he was carried away to safety in Castle Nados…

* * *

><p>Zelgius then was reminded of their second duel…<p>

* * *

><p>At Nados Castle, The Black Knight once again awaited Ike. This time, he was ready with a failsafe. He was sure Ike would bring the blade, and would ensure that regardless of what happened during the duel, Ike would find in the castle his tomb. But first, other business called. Disgusting business.<p>

Executions were always disgusting affairs. Even worse when there was no valid reason. Ashnard had simply tired of the dragon girl, Ena. She was useless, and The Black Knight was to kill her. Simple. Easy.

Repulsive. He regretted giving the madman the blessed armor. He could not know The Master's plans, though. Best to go along with them. And right now, to go along with The Master meant to go along with Ashnard, and that meant to execute Ena. "I promise to make this quick and as painless as I can," he said in a tone intended to reassure both her and himself, and he struck with Alondite to her neck.

What happened next was inexplicable. He felt his arm seize briefly, robbing him of control, and the blade flew wild of its intended path, only cutting her across the upper chest. Not a fatal blow. She would suffer now, and he would have to strike again.

"Damnation," he hissed as footsteps sounded behind him. He turned, and saw Ike, his face struck with horror, and a girl far behind him, one he did not recognize. He immediately shifted his position to cover the bleeding Ena from sight. Of course, he was too late.

"Did you…?" Ike's question was simple enough to finish.

"I promised to make the blow clean, but fate had another plan. She lives still," The Black Knight responded.

"She comes with me," Ike shot back.

The Black Knight laughed. "You'll need to go through me."

Behind Ike, the girl approached, and finally spoke. "Brother!" That was surprising. Gawain had a daughter too?

Ike turned in just as much surprise. "Mist! No! Stay back! He's mine!"

The Black Knight smiled, though they would never see it, and affected a sort of cruelty. "Both of Gawain's children are here; now I can end Gawain's family completely!" Ike responded by drawing a golden-colored blade. The Black Knight started. "So you have brought Ragnell. Now we fight in earnest. Prepare yourself!"

As he had expected, Ike immediately advanced, tossing aside an inferior blade in favor of Ragnell. The Black Knight waited for the inevitable strike. It came quicker than he anticipated, and he threw up Alondite to parry the horizontal blow, surprised at his speed. He had improved even more since their last meeting.

The Black Knight countered, and noted that though Ike's offensive power and skill had increased greatly, he still lacked in defensive ability. His suspicions were confirmed as Ike retaliated furiously, nearly catching him in the side but for a well-placed parry. He had to think of how to counter this furious attack without causing a hole in his defense.

He responded with a feint to the left which gave way to an overhead slash, one of his personal favorite feint-strike combinations. It always confused opponents and often left them bleeding on the ground. However, Ike had managed to parry this blow…barely. He directed Alondite away from him, and attempted his counterattack, which to The Black Knight's surprise, caught him in the side.

His breath left him in a hiss, and he barely avoided stumbling. He responded with a horizontally sweeping blow that, to his satisfaction, caught Ike in the side in a similar manner. He smiled as Ike retreated briefly from the battle. The smile gave way to an annoyed frown as he saw the girl, Mist, raise a staff, which immediately began to glow with healing light. So that was why she came along. Very well. He could handle them both. He felt the wound in his side ease slightly as his latent abilities as a Branded took effect. He stretched it subtly, and, satisfied, prepared for a second attack on Ike.

Ike had other plans, and launched himself back into the fight. The Black Knight found parrying easy, of course, and the duel changed to something more akin to a sport fencing match: neither could get touches, as they became too cautious to risk getting hit again. As the fencing wore on, The Black Knight made an aggressive risk, advancing for a hit. He was stunned as Ike did not parry, but instead made a brief and almost feeble dodge away from the blow.

At that moment, The Black Knight realized that he could win. He had the advantage, with his accursed heritage giving him greater natural ability and endurance, something Ike did not have. Almost as suddenly as this realization dawned, the dispassionate way he regarded this winning advantage took him aback. He felt no satisfaction at guaranteed victory. Why not?

As quickly as before, the answer presented itself. He was fighting a shadow of Gawain. He could not hope to prove himself fighting this shadow. Its techniques were a stiff if capable imitation of Gawain's. The same ones that led to Gawain's death. Ike was not his own swordsman. Defeating an imitation was nothing. Defeating a true swordsman would be the only way The Black Knight would be satisfied to know he had mastered the blade. He would not find that here.

He had to let Ike mature, become his own swordsman. Only then could they truly fight evenly. But Ike would seek him out wherever he went. He would have to throw Ike off this vendetta for a time, retreat to shadow. The Master would understand.

In these few moments, The Black Knight realized how this could happen. He just had to let the boy win. He glanced back to the throne. The small lion head on the left arm held a secret known only to himself, the late Hafedd, and whoever had been the lord of this castle before the War. If he could affect defeat at Ike's hands, he could set this up for a coup de grâce that would leave no doubt in the boy's head of his utter demise.

First, he had to provoke Ike to fight more aggressively. He elected to taunt him. "I recognize your sword technique," he stated truthfully. "Did you never think that using your father's sword technique might prove…ineffective against the man who killed him?"

"My father robbed himself of his stronger arm. If he had his stronger arm he never would have lost to you. My technique comes from when he had his stronger arm. If I stay to it, I will not fail."

The Black Knight laughed aloud. "You think that is true? Come then, son of Gawain. Show me what your father could truly do. I grow bored again." While the words had their desired effect, something Ike had said nagged at The Black Knight, something he could not place.

He was surprised to find that Ike's fervor had now redoubled, and it required very little affectation to let the boy win. The Black Knight groaned as the blade cut through his chestplate, the sudden wound almost causing him to cry out in pain. He forced an impassive, stoic attitude, and chose his "final words" carefully. "I…commend you. You have indeed grown much." He stumbled back to the throne, clutching his chest feebly. He fell back onto the throne, pleased that Ike stood back, believing the wound mortal. While it was certainly painful, it was far from fatal, and The Black Knight grimaced through the pain as he, in a faked clutch at the arm, "accidentally" tripped the switch on the throne. He then held Alondite close to him, and waited for the inevitable result.

A voice from behind Ike and Mist suddenly sounded out. The Black Knight recognized it through the pain and unbearable waiting for the switch to work. Nasir, the mole. Of course. He had come for his granddaughter.

_**Bvvvmmmm**_

The dull roar sounded from below, and The Black Knight smiled. The centuries-old mechanism had worked. The roar gave way to a gradually growing rumbling. It grew louder and louder, until The Black Knight could not hear them shouting to each other as they began to escape the castle, leaving him there, they thought to die, he knew to escape. He reached to his side, reaching into a pouch of crystal powder, and scattering a patch at his feet before he channeled his thought into it. As he thought of where he wanted to be, the collapsing castle blurred and vanished around him…

* * *

><p>And thus, the final duel was here, and Zelgius, now revealed to be one and the same as the Black Knight, now awaited Ike's inevitable advance. Past duels said Ike would make the first move. Thus, Zelgius waited…for a strike that never came.<p>

He finally advanced, wary of this different Ike he fought. He struck quickly, but was surprised as his blow met Ike's quick, nearly effortless parry, and a counterattack that was just as quick. The Black Knight quickly realized that for this final duel, all bets were off. He would have to be on his toes for this. He swung again, and met a flawless parry again. He growled as he stepped back, and quickly realized his mistake. Ike countered viciously, fighting as Zelgius had never seen anybody fight before. He was motivated by his father's death; that much was obvious. Something new motivated him now, though. Some new, mystical addition to Ike's combat made him suddenly a tremendously formidable swordsman.

Zelgius parried as quickly as he could, but in time realized the inherent hopelessness. Whatever about Ike had changed, it may have made him too powerful an adversary. What was it? Zelgius thought during a brief lull, and realized, remembering what Ike had said three years ago, at Nados Castle.

_"My father robbed himself of his stronger arm."_

His stronger arm…of course. Zelgius had never fought Gawain at his peak. He only ever fought a shadow. Now he was fighting the true product of Gawain's teaching, and the "true product" was using his dominant arm. He was fighting Gawain at the peak of his strength. And he was going to lose.

He could not lose like this. He would not let the boy win again. He would give the boy the fight he had finally earned, even though he knew the boy would win now. This odd fatalism invigorated him, and his next blow was unlike any he had given to any person before or since.

He fought as well as he had before, heedless of the inherent futility. Within minutes, he was stumbling back against the wall behind him, and Ike poised Ragnell in front of him. _Go on,_ Zelgius whispered feebly in his mind. _You've earned it_.

The golden blade sank into his torso, cutting through his weakened and reforged chestplate and impaling him as it likewise sank into the wall. Zelgius did not scream from the pain, as any other man likely would have. He breathed out violently, and took a ragged breath, one he knew to be among his last. He chose his next words even more carefully than he chose his words at Nados, for he knew these were truly his last words.

Before he could speak, Ike removed the blade from his body, and he slumped to the ground. He felt strong hands catch him before he fell to the side, and propped him against the wall. He looked up to Ike, and smiled wanly. "It is true…you are equal to Gawain at his greatest. I can die in peace."

Those few words consumed the last of his strength, and his head slumped to his chest as whatever Ike said in reply fell on dead ears.

* * *

><p>With his death, the sisters Alondite and Ragnell were finally reunited. The rest is history.<p> 


End file.
